


what is normal?

by Raconteur11037



Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn
Genre: AU where Mendel is actually a good psychiatrist, Ableist Language, Autistic Jason, Jason-Centric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-30
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-12-21 15:03:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11946753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raconteur11037/pseuds/Raconteur11037
Summary: Jason didn't look up, and he didn't take the man's hand. If he looked up, he would be expected to make eye contact; he hated eye contact. He also didn't particularly like shaking hands. Or introductions. Or strangers. He didn't like anything about this situation, really. "She makes it pretty clear how she feels about me- so does my dad. They think I'm crazy, which is stupid, because I don't think either of them are particularly sane. They think I'm not normal, and they want me to be normal." He put the word 'normal' in air quotes. "Normal is overrated. Nobody is truly normal anyway."___A series of snippets about autistic!Jason, written by an actual autistic person.





	what is normal?

**Author's Note:**

> I'm gonna be honest, this is more of a venting piece for me than anything. I wanted to see more stuff about autistic!Jason, which is practically canon lbr, and at the same time, writing this has helped me work out some of my Issues around growing up autistic.
> 
> So, if this is super ooc, just remember that Jason has basically become a stand-in for me at this point. But I hope you enjoy anyway!
> 
> Also, potential **TRIGGER WARNING** for descriptions of sensory overload and (unintentionally) ableist language.

"Dr. Weisenbachfeld will be with you in just a moment. Please, take a seat while you wait." The lady behind the front desk never looked up from her computer screen as she spoke, and her voice was completely void of any inflection or emotion of any kind. It was clear she wanted to be here about as much as Jason himself.

He really didn't want to be here. He didn't want to be poked and prodded and analysed, burning under a magnifying glass just so his parents could feel like less than complete failures. He didn't want some stranger ("he's not a stranger, your mother and father both trust him and he's a very nice man") looking at him like he was broken, the way his parents all too often looked at him, and being paid to paint over the cracks.

He didn't blame his parents, though. Not entirely. Jason knew he wasn't a normal child, he just wished that for all the abnormality in their lives, his parents would be more willing to accept that their son wasn't totally normal either.

"Jason, will you put that darn Rubie-Cubie down? It's making noise, and there are people trying to work in here." Trina hissed from beside him on the couch, halting his train of thought.

He didn't want to stop. Since he couldn't bring his chess board with him everywhere, he liked to bring something to fidget with. He liked the weight and the moving pieces of the toy. It grounded him. He always ended up flailing awkwardly or scolded for putting his hands in his pockets whenever he wasn't holding something. "It's called a Rubik's Cube, mom," he responded flatly, continuing to toy with the cube more vigorously just to spite her. He could see his mother move to press him further when a figure appeared in the corner of his eye.

"Trina, it's so good to see you! How are you- see you next week!" He cut himself off mid-sentence to wave his previous client out the door, before turning back to Trina and Jason. "How are you doing? How are things with J-" and then he looked down, as if the man was so focused on his mother that he hasn't even noticed Jason's presence.

"That's the thing- I'm actually not here for me today." She turned to give Jason a pointed glare and gestured for him to stand. "I'm just bringing Jason in to meet you. You've just been so helpful to me recently, I figured you might be able to, you know, attack the problem from its source. See if you can- help Jason to understand himself better. You could find out what's bothering him. Lord knows he won't talk to me about any of that stuff."

The man still seemed to be lagging a second behind, latching onto every word Trina said until he had lost track entirely. Jason couldn't help but notice how his cheeks turned red when Trina said he'd been helpful to her. God, this guy was pathetic.

"Yeah, absolutely! I mean, I'll give it a try. That's what you're paying me for, after all. Though I'd do it even if you didn't pay me- y'know, just because, like, I love my job so much- I just like to help people- and I wanna help you in any way I can-" his rambling only stopped when he ran out of breath, and he took that moment to compose himself before pasting on a goofy grin and sticking a hand out to Jason. "Nice to meet you, Jason. Your mother's told me so much about you. I can only hope you're as great a kid as she makes you out to be."

Jason didn't look up, and he didn't take the man's hand. If he looked up, he would be expected to make eye contact; he hated eye contact. He also didn't particularly like shaking hands. Or introductions. Or strangers. He didn't like anything about this situation, really. It wasn't until his mother swiped his arm that he realized he was supposed to say something. "Somehow I doubt that. She makes it pretty clear how she feels about me- so does my dad. They think I'm crazy, which is stupid, because I don't think either of them are particularly sane. They think I'm not normal, and they want me to be normal." He put the word 'normal' in air quotes. "Normal is overrated. Nobody is truly normal anyway."

Trina looked shocked, but it was less shocked at her son's blunt accusations and more shocked that he had heard things that she made sure not to say around him. "That is ridiculous. You are my son, and I love you very much. I just want you to be happy, and I don't think your current lifestyle is making you happy." It was partially true, anyway. It was what she kept telling herself.

A moment of tense silence passed before the doctor clapped his hands and put on a bigger smile, attempting to redirect the conversation. "So! Do you two want to chat together, or do one of you want to talk one-on-one in my office? Whatever works."

Slipping back into her mask of loving, docile mother, Trina smiled and put a hand on her son's back, gently pushing him towards the man. "Why don't you try talking to him alone, Doctor? He won't talk to me about these things anyway."

"Is that alright with you, Jason?"

Jason simply shrugged, and in lieu of a reply, followed the man down the hall into his office. Once the door was closed behind them, Jason immediately let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding, and sank into the plush chaise lounge that looked like it was taken right from the office of just about any fictional psychiatrist ever. Not that Jason was complaining.

 

"So, tell me a bit about yourself, Jason." The doctor gave him an easy smile, and seemed to be generally more collected without his mother present.

Jason still didn't look up from the toy in his hands, but he stopped moving them. "I'm sure you already know everything you need. I like chess. My parents think I'm crazy. But I think they're the crazy ones. 'Specially my dad. His boyfriend is cool, though. He doesn't think there's anything wrong with me." Jason looked up, just briefly, still avoiding direct eye contact, before his gaze flitted away from the man's face again. "What about you, Mr. Weisenbachfeld? Why don't you tell me something about yourself? That's how this works, right?"

The man chuckled. The kid didn't mince words, that much was certain. "Please, call me Mendel. Mr. Weisenbachfeld was my father. And... no. That is not how this works."

"Okay, Mr. Mendel. But, since I told you something about me, it only seems fair that I should know something about you, right? It's like- small-talk, or whatever. I'm not very good at it, though."

"I... guess you're right, that is fair. Well... My name is Mendel. I ate dirt once and my friends never let me live it down. And," he leaned in, almost conspiratorially. "I really, um, admire your mom. I think she's a very nice lady. You're lucky to have someone like her looking after you." Jason fake-gagged at the last part, which made Mendel laugh as he fell back into his seat. "There. Happy now?"

"I think I'm just gonna- ignore that last one. And I'm not even gonna ask about the first one. This is why I hate small-talk." One of many reasons, but the boy certainly had both his parents' flair for the dramatic.

"Good. Now, let's talk about you."

Jason was sure he had been sitting in that office for hours. Mendel just kept bombarding him with seemingly unrelated questions on everything from his intense interest in chess and other games to his above-average sense of hearing. The doctor seemed to be satisfied, but Jason just left the office confused. Mendel offered Jason a lollipop as he left, but he didn't have any of the flavour Jason actually liked, so he declined.

Mendel stayed behind, but stuck his head out the doorway to call for Trina as Jason left, which meant he couldn't go home quite yet. Fantastic.

* * *

 

It wasn't until three weeks- two sessions- later that the adults thought it time to clue Jason in on what exactly was wrong with him. Both his parents were there, which only added to the tension as he sat sandwiched between them, throwing glares at each other when they thought Jason wouldn't notice. He always noticed.

"Well," Mendel began, and all eyes turned toward him. "We're still not sure, but at this point my best diagnosis is something called Asperger's Syndrome. It's on the autism spectrum." _Autism_. That was the newest word his schoolmates liked to throw around; yet another insult they hurled like bullets from machine guns while never fully understanding the words they were saying or what they meant to other people. That couldn't be what he had, could it? Something so intensely negative that the very word was one of the harshest insults in any schoolboy's vocabulary.

He looked to both his sides, for some sort of clarification or reassurance, but neither of his parents spoke, nor turned to look at him. His mother looked on the verge of tears, and his father was stone-faced with his arms crossed, though Jason could see the nervous quirks his father thought he had gotten so good at masking. Finally, he turned back to Mendel, who wasn't grinning, for once, though his expression was still soft.

Quietly, he wished Whizzer were here. Whizzer would just smile at him, tell him that everything was alright, that there wasn't anything wrong with him and there was nothing to be afraid of. Whizzer might make his dad smile, too.

"It's not that big a deal, really. People paint autism in such a bad light, y'know, but so many brilliant, successful people have been on the spectrum. You could even say it has some advantages."

"Doctor-" Trina finally spoke up, her voice still shaking slightly. Jason didn't know what was worth crying over, but he still didn't like seeing his mom about to cry. "You said, when we discussed the possibility before, that it's a- what was the word? A developmental disorder. Could we have caught it earlier? Was there anything we-" she gestured with her hankie-clutching hand between herself and Marvin, who still sat like a mildly uncomfortable statue. "-could have done?" _Is it our fault_ , is all Jason heard. _Did we break our son._

"No. That just means it affects brain development. It has nothing to do with the actual circumstances of a child's raising. They're pretty sure it's something you're born with, but we still don't know everything. I'm sorry, that must have- slipped my mind before."

As if he had tuned out everything Trina had said, only now did Marvin perk up at the mention of the pair's prior conversations. "Wait- you knew about this? You guys had already talked about it? When exactly did you plan on filling me in? He's my kid too, you know! I deserve to know what's happening in his life **just** as much as you do!"

As soon as his father raised his voice, Jason had both hands clasped on either side of his head and began repeating the word 'quiet' to himself, a familiar ritual that he returned to whenever he ended up stuck with his parents yelling like this. Why did they have to be so loud? Couldn't they just say what they were thinking instead of shouting like they wanted to make sure God could hear them?

"Well he's told you now, what more do you want? Maybe if shown any interest in actually helping me raise our son instead of looking for some young boy-toy, I might have been more inclined to share the details with you!"

Suddenly, Jason felt a hand on his shoulder. Even though the touch was light and gentle, it still felt like too much, and he instinctively jerked away. Everything felt like too much right now. When he opened his eyes, he was greeted by the face of his psychiatrist, who held out a notepad with some writing on it, since any attempt at conversation would likely be drowned out.

"Really, Trina? You're going to bring that up now? _Unbelievable_. Absolutely unbelievable. What does that have to do with anything? Are you really that desperate to throw that in my face whenever possible? I thought that conversation was over after the divorce. Oh, and by the way, don't think you're being _oh-so-discreet_ about whatever it is you and Mendel have going on. Believe it or not, I actually thought he might be able to _help_ you- I guess I misjudged both of you-" Turning his head towards the desk, Marvin was snapped out of Fight Mode when he realized Mendel had vanished. "What the-" Upon turning back, he saw that Jason, too, had disappeared from where he had been sitting between his parents just moments before. Had Marvin really not noticed them leave? Turning to Trina in a form of silent truce, he saw she wore an identical expression of bewilderment.

After a brief moment spent scanning the empty office for the two short insomniacs, the slight squeak of a door cracking open nearly made both adults jump out of their skin. Two pairs of eyes, both framed by equally curly hair, peeked through the crack in the doorway, and upon seeing the office seemingly peaceful again, the opening widened and both men reentered the room somewhat sheepishly.

"What the hell, Mendel? Why would you just walk out like that? And why bring Jason? I mean, really?" Marvin moved his hands to rest on his hips, pushing his suit jacket back and up. It was a subconscious act of assertion, supposed to make him look bigger and tougher. Instead, he just looked tired and frazzled, and it made Mendel laugh.

"I did it for Jason, actually. Not that you would have noticed. We both needed some air. Surprisingly, the kid doesn't like being sandwiched between two grown-ass adults- let alone his parents- in a screaming match."

"Can 'the kid' not speak for himself?"

Looking up, Jason still looked scared and overwhelmed, and he spoke in a small voice. "No, Mendel pretty much got it."

Marvin just sighed. "Sorry, kiddo. Me and your mom just got a bit... carried away." That was one word for it.

"Well!" Mendel clapped his hands together, instantly back to his usual goofy self. "As much fun as this has been, I've got another patient coming in in, mm, five minutes, so why don't I get you folks some reading material and call it a day?"

"Yes, please." Trina and Marvin spoke in perfect unison, though their tones could not have been more different.

Just as they were shuffling out the door, Jason turned back for a moment. "Thanks again, Mendel. For earlier." And he smiled, and Mendel realised it was the first time he had really seen the kid smile. "No problem, buddy. I know how parents are. And hey, feel free to call me or anything if they ever get like that around you again, okay?"

"Yeah. Thanks, Mendel. See you next week!" And with that, the boy was off to catch up to his parents. The doctor gave a fond smile and a wave as he watched him race off, and crashed right into his next patient who had just walked in.


End file.
